Page 205 of Made in Love and Blood

“You could at least tell me where I’m going,” she said.

Larkin eyeballed her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Francesca—”

“It’s Frankie, for fuck’s sake!”

Always the consummate professional, Larkin never crossed a line with her or anyone else his job for her father deemed him responsible toward. To him, that seemed to include keeping the people who meant most to her father at arm’s length, in a kind and respectful way. Which meant he never used Frankie’s nickname, and she thought it ridiculous.

They were way past that.

“Just so you’re aware,” her father’s head of security said, “I don’t typically allow people to swear at me, and that isn’t very lady-like.”

Now she understood his attraction to Sissy. Two peas in an annoying fucking pod.

“Yeah, well—”

One hand lifted from the wheel, pointing a finger up. “I will give you a pass from my usual lecture about how kids your age are seriously causing the irreparable degradation of the English language with all this swearing and slang nonsense, because I know it’s been an intense night for you. I will not give you a second pass, however. Keep it in mind.”

“What are you, my dad?”

Larkin chuckled. “Oh, no. If you were my kid, I’d have locked you in a tower where boys and sex didn’t exist. From the jump.”

So much for not using slang, she thought. It all made her laugh a little.

Frankie desperately needed the relief, and the glint in Larkin’s eye in the mirror said he knew it, too.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“No problem, kiddo.”

“You could tell me where we’re going.”

“I can now, yes,” Larkin replied, his eyes peeled on the road ahead of them as the vehicle started to slow, “because we’re arriving at phase three of a several part plan that your father has been working on for a while. I suggest you listen closely and ask as few questions as possible over the next handful of minutes, Frankie, as I will not have time to repeat very much.”

She already had a question. “What plan?”

“Keep up,” Larkin murmured as the truck suddenly whipped sideways into what looked like a dirt road. “There’s a black duffle bag next to you on the seat. Could you open it, please?”

Frankie hadn’t paid much attention to the bag next to her, as she figured it belonged to Larkin. Pulling it into her lap, she opened the zipper only to make a noise of shock at what rested on top of folded clothes. “A gun?”

“Two summers ago, you spent every weekend at a firing range with me and your father. Do you remember?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It was one of the few summers she got to have with her father without him needing to run off or jet away to the next job. Or whatever he had to do that constantly left her alone and without him.

“You were a pretty good shot, I thought,” Larkin noted, a hint of pride in his tone, “so let’s hope you still are. If you need to be, I mean.”

She eyed the gun, not really wanting to touch it. “Am I supposed to keep it on me, or...?”

“No, it is for emergencies only. You know where it is, and you know how to use it should you need to. It’s the same model you practiced with every weekend at the range. Nothing is different. It’s already loaded.”

“Okay.”

“The bag is full of clothes Sissy packed for you. And a pair of running shoes because I’m sure you don’t want to be wearing those heels for however long this is going to take. Also, at the top of the pile is a hoodie of Nico’s. He left it hanging in the entry last week. I thought it a nice touch.”

Frankie immediately began to dig for that item, wanting the smell of him to ground her anxiety. Pulling it from the bag, she held it to her face, and breathed Nico in. The scent of his favorite body wash, and the aftershave he liked around the collar, had her closing her eyes.

Larkin started talking again. “In case of specific situations once an inevitable event came into motion, dove one and dove two must be moved from whatever their current location to an immediate second through various means.”